


With This Ring, I Ask You To Be Mine

by MissKiraBlue



Series: Holiday Fics [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Corpse Bride (2005) Fusion, Angst, Bars and Pubs, Churches & Cathedrals, Corpse Bride, Dancing and Singing, Dead People, Developing Friendships, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Halloween, Halloween AU, Happy Ending, Inspired by Corpse Bride (2005), Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Music, Musical Instruments, POV Blaise Zabini, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Ginny Weasley, POV Harry Potter, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Wedding Rings, Weddings, corpse groom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKiraBlue/pseuds/MissKiraBlue
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been gone for a year, vanished from the earth. Blaise is determined to find him, he knows he couldn't be dead.Harry didn't love Ginny and today was their wedding day. Just as the ceremony is getting closer and closer, the case of Draco Malfoy is getting bigger and bigger and several secrets are about to be revealed.In the end, who's going to marry who?Corpse Bride auPS: It's a different ending than the movie ;)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Ginny Weasley & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Series: Holiday Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/913149
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	With This Ring, I Ask You To Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my adorable–evils!!! IT'S ME AGAIN!! 
> 
> Because it was Halloween, I decided to give you a gift. I love all of you and I love Tim Burton's movies, especially 'Corpse Bride'
> 
> I worked hard on this and I hope you'll love it as much as I did!!!
> 
> Love all of you, lots of hugs and kisses, and tell me how are you, is everything okay?! :3333

**With This Ring, I Ask You To Be Mine**

_“With this hand,_

_I will lift your sorrows._

_Your cup will never be empty,_

_for I will be your wine._

_With this candle,_

_I will light your way in darkness._

_With this ring,_

_I ask you to be mine”_

– Tim Burton’s “_Corpse Bride_”

One Day

Before The Wedding

“Listen up people!” A voice rang up at the street of Diagon Alley. The young boy was holding a lot of newspapers in his hand. There was another boy next to him with a couple of owls, he kept sending them with newspapers. “Harry Potter’s wedding rehearsal is going to start in a couple of hours! The Grand Church is advised to be avoided today until the wedding, which is due tomorrow!”

The early grey clouds painted the sky, its light fell on the town, coloring everything with grey and dull.

“A wedding, you say?” A woman repeated, sitting in a nearby restaurant. “People from England know how to party, that’s for sure, I’ve missed so much already! Well, I suppose it’s great to have a husband such as Harry Potter. All the money and titles – I’m getting excited just as I’m thinking about it, how lucky that lady must be,” the woman blushed and looked around – she saw a a young woman and an old lady, who sat close to her at an another table. “Who’s going to become the wife of Mr. Potter, my dear? I’m dying of curiosity.”

The young woman smiled, sharp and bitter. As if she had better things to do than answer, her eyes screamed of jealousy when she said, “Arthur and Molly Weasley’s daughter.”

A strange, young man, who was reading his newspaper, looked up from it, and stared at the three women, talking over at their table. No one noticed his mouth or his eyes. How it was not a calm smile behind the newspaper, how it felt more like a knife to the heart.

_Ah_, _how fitting_, the stranger thought.

A knife to the heart indeed.

**––––––––––––––––––––**

Harry blinked, biting his bottom lip as he said, “Run that by again.”

Mrs. Lorten just started nodding – her giant hat was made of peacock feathers, it looked horrendous –, as she said, “I’m telling you, he dead.”

Harry wanted to open his mouth to answer but then he heard someone shout from the outside of his Auror office.

“You always tell everyone I’m dead!”

Harry’s eyes widened. He looked at his closed door, clearly hearing a voice from the other side.

_Did that just happen?_

Mrs. Lorten flinched and started to look around in a paranoid way. “You’ve been dead since Yule!” she shouted back.

Harry looked back at her with the most confused look he had ever given to anyone in all his life.

“That wasn’t me!” The man shouted back. “That was Joe!”

Mrs. Lorten and Harry exchanged looks and said, at the same time, “Who is Joe?”

That was the exact time when Harry’s door burst open and Neville was standing there with a–

_Oh, not again._

Harry wasn’t surprised. He immediately stood up and felt his anger burst like a match in the night.

“Zabini,” he said through his teeth, almost growled, “why do you keep coming back when I said–”

Blaise Zabini looked nothing like he did a year ago. His skin was dark but paler, there were visible circles around his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept properly for days, months, _years_ even. His clothes weren’t perfect, the man was nowhere near perfect even though Harry knew he tried to appear that every single day.

He kept coming back.

He kept coming back despite Harry telling him there was no reason to.

“I know what you said, Potter,” Zabini actually growled and brushed Neville’s hand off his shoulders. “Not my fault that you don’t want to actually believe me that–”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, silencing Zabini. He looked down at Mrs. Lorten. “I apologize Mrs. Lorten, could you please give us a minute, I won’t take long, I promise. My partner can help you in the meantime.”

Mrs. Lorten, the old woman, bless her, actually blushed. “No, it’s quite alright Mr. Potter. In fact, I’m grateful I can take some of your precious time even on the day before your wedding, which by the way, congratulations–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Neville said and escorted Mrs. Lorten out of Harry’s office with a charming smile. “Please, tell me about the dead husband instead, I read your report ma’am–”

A voice began to shout again. “I told you I’m right here, that was Joe–”

“You can’t trick me Patrick!” Mrs. Lorten rolled her sleeves up and then started heading towards–

Neville began to panic. “No, no Mrs. Lorten, violence is never the answer–”

And the door closed, leaving Harry and Zabini looking at the other.

Harry didn’t want to get angry this early on the day – because he knew he would get angry later on eventually –, so he just sighed and said, “Look, I know you’re grieving, but you need to accept that he’s gone.”

Zabini pressed his lips into a thin line. “He’s not gone, he can’t be, I know he isn’t. Have you found anything recently? Anything at all?”

Harry understood, he really did. If anyone had ever understood grief, it was him. But he told him so many times, that by now, he had been only echoing himself since what it felt like an eternity.

“No one has found anything related to his case since last year,” he stated. “No one has seen him and everyone knows how he looks like, we surely would have gotten a report by now,” his tone calmed down. “Blaise, you need to face the truth even if it’s hard, we don’t know how exactly, but it’s positive that Malfoy is dead–”

“No,” Zabini shook his head with a quick movement and then turned around, his hand was already on the doorknob. “I know he isn’t, I just know,” he murmured. “He would have put up a fight, he would have done something, I know,” he tiredly rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Though, I can finally see that there is no reason to come back here, no one is actually doing their job, no one is actually doing anything, so I’ll find him on my own.”

“Blaise,” Harry said his name again but the taller man didn’t wait for him, he walked out of the office and he was gone.

**––––––––––––––––––––––**

Ginny was having lunch with Luna and she could feel – because it was surely, hundred percent obvious – that every eye was on her. Everyone was looking at her.

Constantly.

She brought the pumpkin juice close to her lips and tried not to focus on the nerve–racking attention she was getting – had been getting since she and Harry were a thing.

She almost began to drink when she saw someone pull out a camera–

She couldn’t drink her pumpkin juice after all, and put it down back on the table. She sighed and closed her eyes. She could feel her back ache, every inch of her was telling her that she–

_That I’m what?_

Ginny gave out a tired sigh and opened her eyes, she could already feel the migraines start.

“There’s something in the air around you nowadays, Gin,” Luna spoke softly. “It’s getting stronger and stronger.”

Ginny wasn’t even surprised. “Is it at least something pleasant?” Because seriously, she needed something to cheer her up.

Luna’s silver eyes met Ginny’s. Her hair looked white for a moment, as the glowing harsh light caught it from the window.

“I don’t think so, it’s kinda greenish, and all the good things are either yellow or blue,” Luna said with complete honesty. “But you already knew that.”

Ginny blinked.

Luna had that look.

_That look_.

Ginny started to get irritated. “What?” she asked. “What are you hinting at? What do you want?”

Luna just shrugged, looking as innocent as a saint. “I haven’t done or said anything.”

Ginny’s left eye twitched. “That’s the point,” she narrowed her eyes. “I can tell you _do_ want to say something.”

Luna looked uncomfortable. Ginny suddenly realized that this might have been the first time she had ever seen Luna look uncomfortable.

“I’ve been talking to Nev,” Luna began quietly, as if she was scared that people could overhear. “And he’s been talking to Harry, and you see Harry’s been talking to Hermione and–”

“Oh for Merlin’s beard, Luna, spit it out–”

“Neither of you look really happy.”

Ginny felt it like a punch in the gut. She could feel the panic swell and swell inside her, choking her–

She grabbed the side of the table, wanting support. “That’s not true,” Ginny lied, smiling, even though she knew Luna saw right through her. “We love the other–”

“I did not say anything about not loving–”

“We care for the other–”

“Again, I did not mention that you two wouldn’t–”

“Really, we can learn to–”

“Learn to?” Luna’s eyes went round. “Learn to what, exactly?”

Ginny’s hands were shaking, she stood up and put on her coat. “We will talk later, Luna,” she said, dropping a few galleons for her and Luna’s lunch and then walked out of the restaurant. Every eye was on her, following every movement of hers.

_As if she was being eaten alive._

Ginny sometimes wondered if she will ever get used to it.

She wondered about many things.

Maybe that’s why she had those things around her. Maybe that’s why they weren’t pleasant. With every step she took, she felt her limbs broke and her soul heavy inside of her ribcage, wanting to break her bones, wanting to break through–

_To be free._

Because Luna was right. Neville was probably right, too and Merlin knew Hermione was always right.

Ginny loved Harry, ever since they’ve been kids. Harry loved Ginny, a little bit later but he did with all his heart.

They loved each other.

Ginny frowned and hid behind her scarf as she saw people on the street stared in awe at her.

They loved each other.

Ginny could still hear Luna’s words, echoing inside of her head.

_“...Neither of you look really happy...”_

Ginny gave out a bittersweet smile. Because they loved each other.

They really did.

_Just not like that._

**––––––––––––––––––––**

Harry was staring at Ron’s and Hermione’s excited eyes and their big smile while they were walking up to the church. As he looked around he noticed Charlie and Percy with their families. They seemed joyful.

_I suppose the thought of rehearsal alone filled the whole Weasley family with excitement._

Harry’s heart clenched.

_Only them._

“I still can’t believe it how you two are going to get married,” Ron said with such a soft smile, it should have made Harry smile, too, but he felt an overwhelming guilt eating him alive instead. “My best friend and my sister. It’s like my dream finally came true. You’re going to have little babies–” Harry started to feel sick, “–and I get to be an uncle, and I’d bring them to Quidditch games, and–”

“Ronald, it’s their wedding, not yours,” Hermione said from the other side of Harry, sending a disapproving look to Ron. Harry could already feel relief wash over him, hoping that this conversation would be cut off right then and there.

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. “I know that, ‘Mione.”

Hermione furrowed her brows. “Are you sure you know it, though?”

Ron just opened his mouth to answer when–

“Ronald, get over here and help me for Morgana’s sake!”

All three of them flinched.

_Muriel._

The old woman’s hair was as grey as the moon, her purple dress was so vibrant Harry thought he could turn blind in any minute. There was a giant, elegant carriage with at least six horse. The one who was sitting on the top, the coachman, was holding the bridles in his hand. It was an equally old man.

He began to cough.

Muriel didn’t look amused. “Mayhew, stop coughing,” she said and then looked at Ron again. “What are you doing, standing there? I need help with my luggage, I swear, you’re the real example of a not functioning being, Ronald.”

Ron actually paled as he began to walk over to the church, from where the voice came from. The building looked like a mansion, all black and hovering high in the grey sky.

Harry halted in his steps and stared. Not in awe, not in fear.

But because he didn’t feel anything.

His eyes caught Hermione’s – her sharp look stayed on his and never left. She was looking at him as if she knew.

Harry never told her he didn’t love Ginny, not in that way, but he did told her his feelings of hesitance, and Hermione had never been stupid.

_Who am I kidding?_

_Of course she knows._

“Then why are you doing this?” Hermione whispered so that none of the others could hear.

Harry stood there, petrified.

_“Then why are you doing this?” Ginny asked a couple of months ago, looking at him as if she didn’t understand._

And Harry decided to answer all the same, “Because I will always trust her. Because no one else would love me for myself.”

_They would love the fame._

_Never_

_me._

Hermione lightly shook her head. “What you’re doing isn’t fair to Ginny.”

_I know, that’s one of the reasons why I can’t even look at her._

Harry sighed and then took Hermione’s hand as they continued their way towards the church. “She can always say no, Hermione.”

“And what if she does?”

Harry’s heart missed a beat, but never his voice or posture. Never those.

_I know how to act._

“Then she says no,” he said simply.

Hermione was quiet for a while. “What will you do then?”

Harry felt the weight on his shoulders, he felt them constantly, it never began to crush him but it always made him as if he was closer and closer to the ground by each day. Closer to never wake up, closer to never get up.

“Who knows?” he said lightly, “there will always be a dark wizard to kill.”

This his heart stayed steady. As if that was the only thing it was familiar with. Killing, destroying, protecting.

Harry wondered sometimes that maybe that’s all there was to him.

He forgot how to love, how to be calm and relaxed. He forgot a lot of things, and maybe he’ll never get them back.

Maybe it was fine this way.

Because if Harry could love again, truly, deeply love, then he would never do this to Ginny – to the Weasley Family, to Ron. Because if Harry could love again, he would dare to try, dare to hope.

But he didn’t know how to do that anymore.

Something died inside of Harry almost a year ago, in the last battle. Something which was human, something which could give and appreciate.

The only time Harry really felt that rush of life, were the times when he chased criminals, punished them, and killed them as the Head Auror. Because it felt as if he had one day, as if there was no tomorrow, and he was used to that.

He was used to _that_.

Not this type of life, not this type of pace, never this – not this.

He had no idea what to do with _this_.

The others had it easier, the others seemed to get used to it better, or more, or earlier. They would never understand and Harry didn’t want them to understand.

There was no way Harry could ever find a partner who could live like this – live with Harry’s nightmares, his wrath and never–ending struggle to keep himself awake, to always check things at least six times before doing anything at all, to always be cautious and aware of his surroundings.

At least with Ginny, he could have an almost happy life – the closest to it anyways. At least with Ginny, Harry had a chance to enjoy the rest of his years.

Even if he didn’t love her.

Even if she didn’t love him.

Even then, this seemed to be the best shot.

_She can always say no._

Harry would let go.

_However, if she does say no, the last tiny bit of hope will die._

But maybe it would be better that way.

Because at least then, Harry could look into her eyes again, without feeling any guilt or repugnance.

**––––––––––––––––––**

“He’s told you again to give up, am I right?” Pansy drawled, sitting on her couch, reading the Prophet.

Blaise sent her a look. “Potter is _so _full of shit,” he said without strength, without anger, anything. He was pacing the room, up and down. “He thinks he’s all mighty and all that crap, like he knows every little thing but I just,” he shut his eyes and clutched the Fire whisky in his hand. “I just know, okay?”

Pansy put down the magazine and tilted her head – her short hair followed the movement, meeting the corner of her eyes. “Honey,” Pansy said in a kind voice. “We both know that son of a bastard isn’t dead.”

Blaise opened his eyes, looking at her. “Pans, did you just really call Draco a son of a–”

“Not the most important part of this conversation, Blaise–”

“I know,” Blaise sighed, looking away. “I know.”

Pansy’s felt pain in her chest, she stood up from the couch and walked towards Blaise, and gently took his drink from his hand, put it on the counter and hugged him.

Blaise rested his head on hers, sometimes pressing little kisses on Pansy’s hair. She caressed his back lightly, she could feel her heart beat with affection for Blaise.

Always for Blaise.

“We can’t give up,” Pansy said softly. “Draco would be deeply disappointed.”

Blaise’s shoulders were shaking and Pansy knew he was crying. Her eyesight turned blurry for a moment, she had to take a deep breath.

“I know,” Blaise said in an equally soft voice. “I know.”

She had no idea how long they stayed like this.

**–––––––––––––––––––––**

Molly began again, for the sixteenth time today, “I’m just saying the curtains have to go,” she stopped at the centre of the room, took a turn and then looked at her son, “Charlie, what do you think?”

Charlie had been braiding his own hair, but now stopped. He looked the most confused person alive, and Harry had to suppress the laughter in his chest. “What do I think? Why are you asking me?”

Molly wasn’t having it. “Why am I asking you?” she pointed around the room, “do you see anyone else in here?”

They were standing in the room where the party would be, after the ceremony was over. Only three of them.

Charlie and Harry exchanged looks and said at the same time:

“Harry’s here, though.”

“I am here.”

Everyone else was out there, making sure that everything would go according to plan.

Molly waved a hand at them, shaking her head as if this was nonsense.

“I don’t want to offend you, Harry darling, you know I love you,” she looked at him with an affectionate smile. “But you have no idea about colors.”

Harry didn’t even get offended because–

“Okay, fair enough,” he shrugged, _because really, who in the hell cares?_

Surprisingly, Charlie was the one who got offended. He brought a hand over his chest, where his heart was, and just gaped.

“Mother,” he said. “How could you tell this to my brother –in –law?”

Molly clicked her tongue, clearly impatient. “We really don’t have time for this, especially because the curtains have to go–”

“In all honesty, tell me – _look_ at me, and tell me who would even _care_ about the curtains–”

“Charlie, you’ve never planned a wedding in your life. Anything can change even in the last few minutes, if something has to _go_, then it has to _go_–”

“But seriously who would even look at the curtains, when there’s–”

“I don’t like them, therefore, I know that Ginny won’t like them either–”

“_Oh_, like Ginny would care about the curtains at all, I mean really–”

“I’m just saying–”

Harry only noticed that he walked to the other room and closed the door, when he was touching the piano in the corner, caressing the keys gently with his knuckles.

It calmed him down. Immensely.

He learned how to play when his mind healer advised him months ago that he needed something to free the weight on his soul, if for not forever, then for only a couple of minutes.

He loved to play, he always had a soft spot for music, even when he lived with the Dursley's and heard it playing from the radio or from the television.

He didn’t had one at home, because he was rarely at home. He always got home late at night and he couldn’t play then. His hands were always covered in blood, his uniform, too. Whenever he got home, he could be seen as who he really was.

A murderer.

Because it didn't matter if he was killing people who did bad things, or used a different type of magic. Those were people, too. Who had a life, who had families or loved ones. Who was Harry to judge? He had never been a saint.

Everyone else were the ones who painted him wings.

Harry ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to calm his mind but it did nothing at all. He took a deep breath and sat down on the piano stool, measured it a bit, straightened his spine and started to play.

It felt slow at first, those high notes. As he was only testing whether he felt something from it or not. But from the first note, Harry could tell.

_It will always make me feel._

He got braver then, like a quiet, raging rain.

He moved to the lower tones and started to make them sing, as if he was going up and down on a stair. He then began that hesitance again, moving his hands to the higher keys, creating a beautiful, intense, haunting melody.

He closed his eyes and blended his emotion into his playing, into the movement of his hands, slow, yet full of repetition. It was Harry’s life – Harry itself.

Always doing the same things over again, because he can’t change and doesn’t want to change – because he’s stuck in his mind, in his obsessive nightmares.

It would sound beautiful – the way he played. It would sound beautiful to everyone else. Because the high tones resonated with the low ones hauntingly well, creating an enjoyable piece he just created.

But to Harry, this melody felt lonely.

His hands hovered above the last key, as it rang through the room, echoing with a bitter sound.

It left a bad taste in his mouth.

He brought his arms to his chest, clutching them with all his might, feeling the bile coming up in his throat, choking him.

“You never play.”

Harry felt Ginny coming into the room way earlier than she announced her presence – his magic just felt hers easily, because it was used to it after all these months –, but he decided not to say anything, until she did.

“No, I never do,” Harry said. He didn’t look at her.

He felt her magic get closer, and heard her footsteps as she walked closer and then sat down on the piano stool next to him.

They stayed quiet for a while. Then, Ginny said,

“I’ve always believed love would be the reason I marry. That true love would find me, a man would find me, who would love me with all his heart,” she said quietly. “I thought that could be you, Harry.”

Harry ignored the pain in his chest, and sent a calming wave with his magic to hers, and then looked into her eyes.

Ginny was beautiful in her own way. Her red hair was similar to flames in the brightest fire, her eyes glowed bright, sometimes as gold as honey in the brown irises. She didn’t look real, in all honesty, according to Harry.

But they could never be together.

Because even all that, after all, she looked rather fragile. Which was insane to think about because Ginny was one of the strongest people he knew, she showed her strength in every possible way on several occasions, not to mention during the war, too.

But despite all of that, she looked weak and fragile next to him.

Harry was afraid he would hurt her unintentionally or by accident. His magic was powerful and enormous to everyone else in the world or rather, it was too powerful for most people. He could do anything without knowing or without paying attention at all – because he could get tired, he could get distracted –, not easily, but he could.

And then what would happen?

Maybe Ginny could dodge it, maybe it wouldn’t hurt her much, maybe she would easily stand against it.

But maybe, maybe–

_She would die._

And Harry would never know, if she could survive something from him. Not for sure, at least.

“Maybe we could learn to love the other,” Ginny continued quietly, hesitantly. “It will take time of course, and it... might not be the easiest thing to do but... we can try?”

Harry’s heart ached for her. Not for himself but only for her.

Because she was and would always be important to him, because she was smart, confident, talented, and lively, and everything someone could hope for a wife.

But Harry could never love her. Not in that way, not more than a precious friend.

He was too gone.

He had seen and lived things no one could ever understand, let alone her. He wanted things no one could ever understand, he did things no one could ever forget.

_I doubt I could love anyone. At all._

“You can say no, Ginny,” Harry said softly, because she _deserved_ delicacy, even though Harry was far from delicate. “You can always say no, I would let you go and nothing would change between us.”

Ginny’s eyes softened as she reached for Harry’s hand. He let her intertwine their fingers together, but he didn’t feel anything.

He doubted he ever would.

“But if I say no, what will happen to you?” She asked and Harry hated her in that moment because–

“Don’t do this out of pity,” Harry said coldly, narrowing his eyes. “Do this if you want someone to always be there for you, to protect you if you need it, to give you comfort so that you’d never struggle. Don’t do it for pity, don’t do it if you love someone, don’t do it if you think we can learn to love the other.”

Ginny bit her bottom lip and slightly looked away. As if Harry’s gaze burnt her.

Maybe it did.

“They’ve been waiting for this forever,” she whispered, still holding Harry’s hand. “I don’t want to disappoint them.”

Harry’s looked down at their hands and caressed Ginny’s with his thumb, doing slow, little circles. “We can divorce, if it gets too much or if you fall in love.”

Ginny leaned close, and pressed her forehead against Harry’s. Their noses almost brushed, her red hair fell over Harry’s hand.

“You will always be my most important person,” Ginny promised. “Whatever happens after the wedding, that will never change.”

Harry raised his head a bit and pressed a quiet kiss on her forehead. Following Harry, she closed her bright eyes as well.

“You’ll always be special to me, Gin,” Harry promised as he opened his eyes. “Whatever happens, nothing will ever change that.”

Ginny smiled softly and then let go of Harry. She gently ran her hand over Harry’s hair, and then walked out of the room.

It grew quiet frighteningly fast.

**–––––––––––––––**

Zacharias Smith was holding at least twenty red roses in his hands, but his face looked so stone cold – it was such a contrast he almost burst out laughing. He bit his bottom lip to prevent himself–

_Wait, what did he say?_

“What do you mean he’s in town again?” Blaise’s jaw fell, almost sweeping the wooden floor of the shop.

“I meant what I meant,” Zacharias stated, looking hundred percent done with his life. “I was as surprised as you were, Flaco just saw him not a long ago.”

Blaise could only gape. “I haven’t seen Theodore since months,” he said, still in shock. “Like– where has he been? What has he been doing? All this time? Why didn’t he say anything about leaving?”

Zacharias blinked. “I have no idea and to be honest I don’t fucking care either, in fact, I’m already late so,” he nodded at Blaise and turned around to walk out of the flower shop. “Tell Parkinson I said hi.”

Blaise nodded and waved at him, still confused.

_Where has he been?_

Blaise hadn’t seen Theodore Nott for a year – for a whole year. He came back now, but why?

Blaise shook his head and then bought a blue roses for Pansy. She always liked blue roses the best, and she looked sad after Blaise went out. She deserved a little happiness.

_I didn’t except to bump into Zacharias, however._

Just as he thought about this, holding the flower, Blaise walked out of the flower shop and bumped into a shorter, delicate body–

His eyes widened.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he couldn’t breathe. “You can finally come out of your house?”

Narcissa’s eyes went round. “Blaise,” her voice always made him smile, so that he did. It made Narcissa smile, too. “That’s the first thing you say to me after you haven’t visited me forweeks?”

Blaise ears turned red. “I’m so sorry, but in my defense, I’ve been searching for clues in...” It suddenly got hard to speak. “In...”

Narcissa reached out and took one of Blaise’s hands into hers. “Have you found anything?” she asked and Blaise loved her for it so much.

Because she always believed in him, because she never had a single disbelief, never though that he lied. Narcissa always felt like a family, always felt like a mother to Blaise. Maybe because his own mother had never really done anything to him, never really showed love or cared for him at all.

Or maybe because Narcissa loved Blaise as her own son, without wanting anything back, without any malice or any ulterior motives.

“Nothing yet,” he said with honesty. “But I won’t stop looking.”

Narcissa’s hold grew stronger, it made Blaise to look at her. “Something weird happened,” she said. “I could finally go get, and then read Lucius’s last letter–”

Blaise snorted, feeling the anger built up inside of him already. “Those bastards, waiting for almost half a year after his death, before giving it to you, that’s just–”

“Blaise, _focus_!” Narcissa said with such a power, Blaise sometimes forgot she never commanded armies in her life. “He kept mentioning the same things over and over again, saying this happened on the day Draco vanished. He kept writing the same things, things as in: ‘_I won’t let you,_’ and ‘_He stole everything from the mansion._’ He must have turned insane by then in Azkaban but... you can feel it, too, can’t you?” She looked at him. “This was not a coincidence.”

Blaise was shaking with excitement, and he was intrigued because–

“It’s better than nothing,” he said with joy. “It’s more than enough to reopen the case.”

_Oh, my, my._

Blaise was delirious.

_I guess I have to go back to you for one last time, after all._

_Potter._

“Listen up people!” A voice rang up at the street of Diagon Alley. The young boy was holding a lot of newspapers in his hand. There was another boy next to him with a couple of owls, he kept sending them with newspapers. “Harry Potter’s wedding rehearsal is going to start in a few minutes! The Grand Church is advised to be avoided today until the wedding, which is due tomorrow! And now the weather... a little bit rainy, very cloudy–”

Blaise looked at them and started to grin.

**–––––––––––––––**

_During the wedding rehearsal_

“We gotta try again,” Aberforth said, holding an ancient, old book in his hands. He began to read. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” he stopped for a moment. “Now repeat after me.”

“Whose idea was that he should be the priest, anyway?” Ron tried to whisper, but everyone else heard it in the church. “I mean... who thought that this would be a good idea?”

Aberforth cleared his throat and said, “I’m the only one who knows the ancient binding and I got my certification, too. I can assure you, I am qualified, Ronald,” he stared at Harry. “He just can’t seem to remember the enchantment,” he shrugged. “Now, repeat it.”

Harry sighed and tried again, holding a candle in his right hand.

Aberforth chuckled. “Other hand.”

_What?_

Harry furrowed his brows. “Other hand?”

“Candle is in the left hand, brotha!” Ron shouted from the back.

“Ron, don’t shout! You’re distracting the priest!” Molly shouted from the right.

“What– you’re the one who’s shouting now!” Ron shouted back. “Aren’t you the one who’s distracting him?”

“Now you’ve done it,” George whistled from the left. “Way to go, Ronnikins.”

Ever the pacifist, Arthur spoke up calmly, “Let’s just calm down–”

Percy looked like as if he just remembered something, and then he raised his hand. “Is this the bad time to announce that the new curtains got damaged?”

Everything quieted down for a single moment.

And then

Everyone began to shout.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY GOT–”

“WASN’T IT YOUR JOB TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING WOULD GO ACCORDING TO PLAN–”

“WHY DOES THAT MATTER, THOUGH–”

“This is a disaster,” Muriel said, using an elegant fan to cool herself, not giving a damn what was happening around her. “I’m not even surprised.”

“As if you’re ever surprised about anything,” Charlie and Bill said at the same time to her.

“Can they please at least continue?” Fleur asked, quieting everyone down. “Otherwise we will never get anywhere.”

Harry put the candle in his left hand and with his other hand, he reached out for Ginny’s and gently raised it up to a certain height.

He began, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,” he took three steps forward with her, and then stopped. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and–

The church’s front, two winged door burst open. “I OBJECT!”

Ginny had flinched so fast – because she got scared–, that her candle flew out of her grasp.

The candle fell on Fleur’s dress.

It’s very simple, really;

It burst up in flames.

Molly stood up too quickly, then fainted – Arthur ran over there to catch her but slipped, and then fell to the ground. Percy got there in time to catch Molly, almost falling himself.

Fleur’s eyes widened. She sat there, panicked – she couldn’t even scream because of the shock. Bill, Charlie and even George stood up at the same time. They used _Aguamenti_ pointing their wands at the fire, letting the water wash the flames away.

Aberforth narrowed his eyes at the person who stood there at the front door. “Who is this handsome young man?” he pointed at him with the ancient book, it almost fell out of his hands.

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron turned around at the same time, and said:

“_Zabini?!_”

Blaise was laughing so hard his tears came out. “Oh _my_,” he wheezed. “I’ve always wanted to do that, damn, it feels good,” he let out a loud sigh, hands on his hips, looking smug and said, “Weddings are fun when they are not my mother’s.”

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked in an annoyed tone.

“I told you to quit keep coming back,” Harry stated, as if it was obvious. “You’re even following me to the church, seriously, Zabini?”

The situation was obvious to Harry and Hermione. Because Harry told her sometimes about his cases, so Hermione knew about how Blaise kept trying to find a new information for Malfoy’s case.

So for them, it was obvious that Blaise appeared for merely business.

But for Ron and Ginny, it wasn’t.

Ron was completely outraged. “Are you telling me that you love my sister?”

Blaise’s smile froze on his face. He got pale, all of a sudden.

Harry furrowed his brows. “What?” he turned to Ron, “no, that’s not it–”

Ginny frowned as she looked at Blaise. “Aren’t you with Parkinson?” she asked. “Why would you want me as your wife? Scratch that, how long have you been planning this?”

Blaise raised his hands in defense and nodded. “I am. It’s not that, it’s just–”

Ron, if that was possible, got more angry. “You’re trying to kidnap my sister into your harem?!” he rolled his sleeves up and started to walk towards Blaise, wand already in his hand. “C’mere, Zabini. I show you something really interesting, just stay where you are–”

“Well that’s just wonderful,” Muriel said with a big smile, still fanning herself. “It’s not a real wedding, if we don’t have at least one dead body lying around somewhere.”

Everyone stopped and looked at her.

Muriel raised an eyebrow. “What?” she looked around and then _behind_ _herself_, as if everyone was looking at someone else, someone who was sitting behind her, but no one was there. She turned back, adjusting her hair, asking again, “_What_?”

“_No_ dead body, please,” Blaise said in a wary tone and then caught Harry’s gaze. “I found something on the case. A real evidence, I want you to come with me and take a look.”

Harry doubted that it was a real evidence. It must have shown on his face because Blaise added, “If it won’t be enough, I stop. I will stop for good.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, but slowly put down the candle in his hand and started walking towards him. “Let’s go,” he said and then turned back to Ginny, saying, “I won’t be long.”

Ginny nodded and Hermione began to explain about what was going on, to Ron.

_At least I didn’t have to be here._

He even felt a little bit grateful, because Blaise showed up.

“Memorize the enchantment, Mr. Potter,” Aberforth said at the very last moment before they closed the front, two winged door behind themselves.

**––––––––––––––––––**

_At the Malfoy Manor_

“Narcissa isn’t home at the moment, but she knows I’m here,” Blaise told Harry in front of the gates of the Malfoy Manor. “I’ll take the letter, because I’m the only one allowed inside since I visit her regularly, and show you,” he looked into Harry’s eyes, “and if you think it’s a good enough evidence, promise me you’ll reopen the case, the investigation.”

Harry forgot how hope looked like. Blaise looked blinded by it, that was the only thing he could see, as it seemed to him.

Harry didn’t feel anything.

“Okay, I will,” he said. He knew that meant the world for Blaise – those words. Harry didn’t even remember when was the last time something made him feel that strongly.

“I’ll be quick, just wait here,” he said to Harry and then ran into the Manor. Harry, for a while, watched him go.

Then turned around and tried not to think.

_With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine._

Harry sighed and sat down on a wooden bench, feeling his powerful magic wanting to burst. He tried to clear his mind, taking a deep breath, tried to forget what was going to happen tomorrow, how he would hurt Ginny.

_This was a bad idea._

He should let her go. He should accept that this won’t work – how could he think that it can?

_I will call off the wedding, I have to._

Because what if Ginny does fall in love with him, after some time? He could never love her back, he would never forgive himself for hurting her like that.

Harry pulled the ring out of the pocket of his coat.

_I don’t need this anymore._

He looked around and saw an enormous tree. He stood up and slid the ring over a bough.

Everything fell to silence.

The wind stopped, the mist grew higher and higher, it was everywhere, Harry almost couldn’t see.

And then the tree began

to

move.

Harry, for a moment, couldn’t even move.

The beautiful, enormous tree grew and grew – its boughs stretched over and then curled, creating a crown –, the wood changed into white, and then into something soft and then–

A person stood in front of Harry in an elegant outfit.

But then, as the mist cleared out a bit, Harry finally noticed who it was.

Draco Malfoy didn’t look dead.

At

all.

“Potter?” Malfoy asked, frowning, as if he didn’t understand why was Harry there.

Harry’s magic got close enough to Malfoy’s and it felt so much, so overwhelming and powerful–

The world went dark.

**––––––––––––––––**

_Beyond_

_Old Jimmy’s bar_

“Harry, come on, you gotta wake up man,” the voice was coming above, the stranger was gently hitting his cheek–

_This voice._

Harry’s eyes snapped open and he found himself staring at George.

But no, no–

_This wasn’t–_

Harry forgot how to breathe as he sat up on the bench where he had been lying down, and then turned to Fred to hug him.

The red head was laughing, hugging Harry back with a nostalgic smile. “I knew you can still tell us apart,” Fred said, voice full of joy.

Harry after all these months, for the first time, laughed. Their hug got stronger and Fred ruffled his hair. Harry leaned back from the hug and noticed where he was.

Everything was colorful.

The wall, the little houses and the lamps standing on the streets – as he saw them through a window from the bar where they were at–, all of them were light blue, purple, orange and rose. People roamed the streets, holding flowers, their purse and hats. All of them were wearing colorful, elegant clothes. It was night so everything was glowing with eternal light – the moon was high on the sky, charming its way through the magnificent trees and cottages.

The bar where they were was filled with Jazz, and Blues – there was a band on the stage with trumpets, horns and drums. The bartender was doing at least more than twenty drinks to serve the people. The candles glowed with green, blue and purple light, creating a magical atmosphere. There was drinking, eating, dancing, talking, playing billiard.

These people were the most lively people Harry had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Harry turned his attention back to Fred, who had been looking around as well, wearing a little smile on his face.

Fred is dead, no matter how painful it was to admit it. Although it might have looked like that, but Harry doubted this was a dream.

His dreams were never this delightful, never giving this type of comfort or any type of comfort whatsoever.

So then–

Harry asked hesitantly, “Is this the afterlife?”

Fred didn’t even bat an eye. “I’ve always knew you’re a smart guy,” he winked at him and then shrugged. His voice was easy to hear despite the loud music in the background. “You were pretty close but this is something we call _Beyond_. It’s an ‘almost dead’ type of place. Only the ones who have still something to do or if someone misses them from Upstairs – those are the only ones who are here.”

Harry frowned. “Upstairs?”

Fred nodded. “_The Land of the Living_. But we just call it Upstairs for short,” he shrugged again.

Harry started to think. “Does that mean... you haven’t moved on because... you’re still here because–”

Fred gave out a sad smile. “George just can’t seem to let go,” he looked down, away from him.

Something ached in Harry’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Fred sighed and then slowly shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said. “It’s alright. This place isn’t bad at all. I can stay here for a bit longer. Besides,” he added with a sly grin. “Things have finally started getting interesting since you woke up Draco.”

Harry froze. “What do you mean I woke him up?”

_Draco?_

_Since when does Fred call Malfoy, Draco?_

Fred leaned a bit closer on the bench and whispered, “Draco is a special case,” he began. “You see–”

“Oh, I see, we’re talking about Draco again whom everyone loves, seriously. You aren’t so slick Fred Weasley–”

Harry’s blood

ran

cold.

As he turned around towards the voice direction, the person who was looking at him was–

_Cedric Diggory._

Who did not age at all. Who was still seventeen years old and who was looking like as if this was the time of his life.

The moment he saw the gobsmacked Harry – Cedric halted in his steps. He looked like as if he’s gonna be sick.

“Oh no, Cedric, chill,” Fred hurriedly spoke up next to him. “Harry didn’t die, he’s not dead–”

“How can he be here then?!” Cedric still didn’t look reassured. “Why is _he_ here?” he asked in a panicked voice. He turned to Harry and said, as if he was accusing him of murder. “Then why are _you_ here?!”

Harry’s eyes widened more, he opened his mouth to say something but didn’t find his voice.

_Cedric didn’t seem to be angry about him being himself – he didn’t seem to be holding a grudge because Harry left him there on that day in the cemetery–_

_Cedric didn’t blame him at all._

Harry felt a weight on his shoulder fell down like a–

“He woke Draco up,” Fred announced with a smug voice.

Cedric gaped at Fred and then looked at Harry with the same stupid expression. He stood there with his jaw down, completely speechless.

“You did _what_?” Cedric couldn’t believe his ears, “You _woke_ Draco _up_?!”

and the music

fell

silent.

Everything stopped. People stopped dancing, every conversation died out, no one was playing. It’s as if time was frozen for a moment.

Harry could hear next to him Fred go, “Now you’ve done it.”

_Done what?_

But then in the next minute, he understood.

Everyone lost their mind.

People gathered around Harry, some recognized him, some shook his hand, some immediately looked relieved after noticing he wasn’t dead. They started to whisper, and Harry could hear Malfoy’s name anywhere, and they were too close, and they were talking to loudly, and Harry began to feel crowded, and everything was too close–

“Okay,” he used his magic to push them away from him. They took several steps back. Harry felt a vein pop out close to his neck. He looked around and said loudly, “Can somebody tell me what is going on with Draco Malfoy?” He took a deep breath through his nose and kept looking around. “What do you mean I woke him up? What did I do?”

“You asked his hand.”

Harry turned around to look at the bartender. He was wiping glasses with a towel, his accent was noticeable, clothed with French.

“I didn’t ask his hand,” Harry said. Then he began to think–

_The ring._

His eyes went round.

“You slid a wedding ring on a bough of an old oak tree.”

Harry turned towards the stage, to where he had heard the new voice came from. The singer was looking at him with eyes sly as the fox. He wore a hat and a long coat, his dark skin had a nice contrast to the green and purple lights coming out of the candles.

“In other words,” the singer continued, “you did marry him. Let it be coincidence or not intentional, it’s still is what it is, and it still woke him up, it still turned him back into human.”

Harry furrowed his brows, not quite understanding.

_Turned him back into human?_

“He doesn’t get it, so let’s hit it boys,” the singer said with a big grin and the room burst up with instruments.

The drums started it and then the trumpets came in with the piano. The crowd grabbed their drinks and started to sway with the song, along with the rhythm. They were standing around Harry, creating a circle with him in the middle of it. Harry caught Fred and Cedric’s eyes, both of them having the biggest grin on their faces.

“_Hey! Give me a listen you corpses of cheer,_” the singer began with a strong voice, the piano giving a boogie type of a tone. “_I’ll tell you a story that’ll make a skeleton cry of our own judiciously lovely corpse groom_.”

The trumpets and the trombones, drums and bass guitar joined in. “_Die, die, we all pass away,_” the crowd began to sing along, their voices powerful and loud. They were smiling, grinning even. Harry had never seen such a happy and careless, so full of life people. “_But don’t wear a frown ‘cause it’s really okay. And you might try and hide, and you might try and pray, but we all end up of the remains of the day._”

“_Well our boy is a beauty known for miles around, when a mysterious stranger came to town,_” the crowd stopped singing, the singer continued with only the piano and the trumpet. “_He was plenty good–looking, but down on his cash. And our poor little baby,_” the singer moved down from the stage and took a drink out of someone’s hand, “_he fell hard and fast,_” the singer threw it away, it shattered on the wall and everyone cheered. “_When his dad said no, he just couldn’t cope. So our lovers came up with a plan to elope._”

The trumpets and the trombones, drums and bass guitar joined in again. “_Die, die, we all pass away,_” the crowd began to sing along, their voices powerful and loud. Some of them fell down on the ground, completely drunk, some of them hugged the other and swayed that way. “_But don’t wear a frown ‘cause it’s really okay. And you might try and hide, and you might try and pray, but we all end up of the remains of the day._”

Then the instruments began. “C’mon boys pick it up,” the singer said and the drums, the trumpets, the guitar almost took down the roof. The crowd started dancing, turning and grabbing another drink. The bartender was making new ones all the time, they threw old money at the band towards the stage, some people whistled and threw their hats.

Even though this was the _Beyond_, where everyone was dead, Harry never felt this full of life. The energy couldn’t have been compared to anything.

Then the band took a bit back, the piano stayed with the trumpet again, and the singer continued with a low voice. “_So they conjured up a plan to meet late at night, they told not a soul, kept the whole thing tight. Now his perfect elegant suit fit like a glove, you don’t need much when you’re really in love. Except for a few things, or so I’m told, like the family jewels and a satchel of gold_,” his voice then went higher, the song was quickening up. “_Then next to the graveyard by the old oak tree, on a dark foggy night at a quarter to three, he was ready to go but where was he?_” the singer looked at Harry and he froze.

“_And then?_” The crowd asked, looking at Harry.

“_He waited,_” the singer continued.

“_And then?_” The crowd asked again, stepping closer, making the circle smaller, still looking at Harry.

“_There in the shadow, was it his man?_” The singer asked Harry.

“_And then?_” The crowd was excited, they were almost just next to Harry.

“_His little heart beat so loud._”

“_And then?_” The crowd grew restless by now.

“_And then baby, everything went black_,” the singer said and then moved back to the piano, where he began to play. “_Now when he opened his eyes, he was dead as dust, dead until someone wakes him up. His jewels were missing and his heart was bust. So he made a vow lying under that tree,_” the crowd began clapping with the rhythm and the crowd began to harmonize lowly, like a perfect choir, “_that he’d wait for his true love to come set him free. Always waiting for someone to ask for his hand, when out of the blue comes this groovy young man. Who vows forever to be by his side and that’s the story of our own corpse groom._”

“_Die, die, we all pass away,_” the crowd began to sing along, their voices powerful and loud, still clapping and whistling, dancing. “_But don’t wear a frown ‘cause it’s really okay. And you might try and hide, and you might try and pray, but we all end up of the remains of the day._”

**–––––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

Blaise apparated in front of the Weasley’s Burrow, ran over the front door and knocked on it, he couldn’t breathe properly, he kept panicking even thought he knew what he saw was really the thing what he had seen–

The door opened and it was the person who he had been hoping to see.

“Weasley,” Blaise began, and something must have showed on his face because Potter’s soon–to–be wife was already pulling a coat around herself. Blaise looked into the house, from what he could see, everyone was deeply asleep.

“I knew something was wrong, I knew it,” Weasley said and then walked out of the house, closing the front door behind her. She pulled the coat closer to herself, looking like as if she was freezing. Blaise pulled off his scarf and put it on her, twirling around her neck and shoulders. She looked at him weirdly, surprised. “Thank you.”

Blaise just said, “Don’t thank me I’m too warm because of the shock.”

They began to walk farther away from the house, Weasley’s attention were completely on him. “What happened?” she asked. “Where’s Harry?”

Blaise swallowed and stopped, tried to stop shaking, but the letter was still in the pocket of his long coat, so what he had seen–

_Is real._

“I saw Harry disappear,” Blaise began, looking at Weasley. “And I saw Draco.”

Weasley paled.

Blaise closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength. He felt someone touch his arm – when he opened his eyes he saw it was her. It felt oddly comforting.

Like a support from a friend.

_God, he really doesn’t have friends besides Draco._

And Pansy really didn’t count because she was more. She was something else, something gentle and infinite.

“Then?” Weasley asked patiently.

“Then they both vanished, I don’t know where, not matter how fast I ran I couldn’t get there on time,” he gave out a tired sigh and then turned away, feeling the desperation claw through his spine. “_Fuck_,” he said, his brows furrowed in pain. “I’m so shaken and tired I can’t think I can apparate. I don’t want to hurt you or me and–”

“I’ll apparate us,” Weasley said confidently.

Blaise shook his head. “You can’t, you don’t remember well the place, do you?”

She fell silent and Blaise felt all of this starting to weighing him down, now of all times, now when he was so close, had been so close because–

_Draco is not dead._

Because he was right.

“I know someone who can give us a ride,” Weasley said and Blaise turned back to her. Ginny Weasley was grinning like a demon.

For some reason, Blaise didn’t feel the weight anymore.

And for some reason, Blaise grinned back.

**––––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

“Well, we’ve arrived,” Muriel said from the carriage, as they stopped in front of the Malfoy Manor.

Weasley nodded at her, “Please wait us for here,” she said.

Muriel was holding a cup of tea in her hand. “I’m quite busy, Ginevra, but I suppose I can stay.”

Weasley gave her an all knowing smile. “You’re quite the softy inside, huh, Aunt Muriel?”

Muriel scoffed and raised his nose up in the air, looking away.

“Thank you,” Blaise said and then opened the door for Weasley to get out. Mayhew raised his hat for a bit and Blaise nodded at him. They walked close to the gate, the moon was high up in the sky, the only source of light in this dark evening.

Blaise could hear Weasley’s footsteps behind him. “So you’re excited about the wedding? We’ll bring them back – bring Potter back, too, don’t worry.”

Weasley caught up with him. “I just hope he’s alright,” she said hesitantly. “But it’s weird that Malfoy isn’t dead.”

Blaise looked at her in the corner of his eye. “I knew he wasn’t dead,” he said quietly. “Draco is too powerful to die. His magic – after the war his magic stretched out, it became stable and whole.”

Weasley nodded. “It’s not a surprise,” she said. “I always hated him but he has never been weak.”

“After the war,” Blaise began, “he became more mature. He saw things differently, he accepted his flaws and tried to work through them. He did horrible things... but then again, so did all of us.”

Weasley seemed deep in thought. Blaise let her be.

Then they arrived and Blaise noticed that the old oak tree was nowhere to be found. “It happened here,” Blaise said in a confused tone. “I saw it,” he began to turn around looking for answers, looking for something. “I saw Harry put a ring on the tree, and then Draco appeared, and then–”

“_Whoa_, stop,” Weasley raised her arms in defense. “Why would he put a ring on a bough of a tree?”

Blaise turned confused. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “But I know what I saw.”

Weasley turned quiet but then said, “Can you show me the letter again, please?” Blaise gave it to her without a second thought. She started reading over and over again. “What did he mean he stole everything from the mansion? Malfoy?” She looked up from the letter to look at Blaise. “Why would Malfoy stole something from his own house?”

Blaise froze.

_How did I not think about that?_

Everything was inherited to him – but then again, when he disappeared, Lucius was still alive. He needed money, he needed something valuable which he stole – but for what? Why would someone to stole–

For money.

_But Draco had money_–

Blaise

was

petrified.

“He didn’t have money,” Blaise started thinking out loud, touching one side of his face, looking at the ground. “And if he didn’t have money that means he thought that he would be disowned,” he frowned. “He was running away.”

“But why? Why would he run away? Why did he think he would be disowned?” Weasley’s voice echoed next to him, as if it was his own racing thoughts.

And they were racing like a storm.

“Lucius didn’t agree on something, he didn’t allow Draco to do what he wanted,” Blaise looked at Weasley, his eyes screamed with fright.

Weasley’s eyes turned to the same. “What could Lucius hate so much he rather disown his own son, than to allow him to make it happen?”

Blaise didn’t even need to think. He knew about Draco’s deepest secret.

He was the only one he knew.

Blaise looked at Ginny Weasley and said, “Love.”

And the bell started to ring down at the church. “So that was why,” Weasley’s eyes widened and then and idea popped into her mind. She touched Blaise hand and started to run back to the carriage, pulling Blaise with her.

They sat in and then looked at Muriel. Weasley then said, “We have to back to the church, there’s something we need to ask from Aberforth.”

Muriel raised an eyebrow and took a long drag from her pipe. “This might seem to be an interesting night after all. _Mayhew_!” Muriel shouted. “To The Grand Church.”

Mayhew used his whip and the horses began to turn around and gallop back to where all of it began.

Blaise had no idea what was going on, he sent a curious look to Weasley, but she only said, “Trust me.”

Blaise nodded and when they finally arrived, they both felt shivers crawl through their spines. They stepped out of the carriage and then walked towards the enormous two winged front door. Blaise knocked on it.

It burst open.

“Ginevra!” Aberforth looked taken back. He was holding a candle in his hand. “What in the–”

“Aberforth!” Weasley interrupted. “I have to ask you something.”

Aberforth invited them in and Blaise closed the door behind themselves. “What do you want to know?” Aberforth asked Weasley.

“Is there a curse which can be only broken if someone asks the cursed one’s hand in marriage?”

Blaise was so impressed that he mentally kicked himself all the time he thought Ginny Weasley was stupid.

_Because why didn't I think about this?!_

Ginny the whole situation to Aberforth, Blaise added to the story here and there. By the end of, Ginny began again, “I figured he wasn’t dead,” she said to Blaise. “Because otherwise you would have seen a ghost or something indescribable. So if he wasn’t dead, he was alive. But then if he wasn’t really alive, he must have been standing somewhere in between.”

Aberforth hummed, “Somewhere between, you say?” he asked. “Interesting,” he put down the candle and turned to the two young adults. “This does sound like a curse. If he gained back a flesh body that means Harry broke some, if not the whole of the curse. They’ll be back, however,” he fell silent.

“Yes?” Blaise asked.

Aberforth’s eyes were going from Blaise to Ginny’s. “The one who put the curse on Draco Malfoy, that person knows about this more than we do,” he had a sly grin on his face. “We have to trap that person.”

“How do we do that?” Ginny looked at Blaise who was already thinking.

_If Draco needed to stole money, the person who he was in love with didn’t have much or any money. Also, people who curse someone rarely go far, because they are paranoid and want to know first hand if something goes wrong. He wouldn’t have much money to run anywhere to begin with._

The one who did this is still here.

“If we tell that everyone is invited to Harry and Ginny’s wedding, there’s no way he wouldn’t be here,” Ginny’s eyes widened as Blaise mentioned the gender of the person. “This curse must have left a mark on him.”

Aberforth nodded. “Oh, for sure,” he said. “I could point him out in a crowd, if I could. Although, it’s only visible if someone is really concentrating.”

“There’s one tiny problem in the plan,” Ginny had a pained expression on her face. “Harry is nowhere to be seen and we can’t have a wedding without a groom.”

Aberforth chuckled.

Both Blaise and Ginny turned around to look at him. Aberforth only grinned, and said,

“Who said we didn't have a groom?”

**––––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

_“_Finally!” Muriel shouted from the window as she noticed Blaise and Ginny walking back to the elegant carriage. “What took you so long?”

Ginny was smiling like a wolf. “We have to hurry, Aunt Muriel,” she said, looking at Blaise who had a similar grin on his face. “We have a wedding to plan before the sun comes up.”

Muriel raised her brows. “What wedding when you don’t have a groom, Ginevra?” Mayhew took a long drag of his own pipe, letting the smoke out with a sigh, and then starting to cough. “Oh for the love of my shoes, Mayhew, stop coughing–”

“We have a groom,” Ginny said and then threw a hand around Blaise’s shoulders as if they’ve known each other since years. “I’ll marry Blaise.”

Muriel dropped her own pipe and Mayhew started coughing so violently that he couldn’t breathe and then

Fell

off

the

carriage.

**––––––––––––––––**

_Beyond_

_Old Jimmy’s bar_

“So I broke the curse? That means he’s not dead anymore, right?” Harry asked, looking at Fred and Cedric, sitting at a table around the corner of the bar.

The two boys exchanged a look in front of him, and then they turned back to Harry. “Not entirely,” Fred said. “You just turned him back into human. Draco can only be alive again if he kills the man who put this curse on him.”

Harry didn’t even try to hide the surprise in his voice. “So the man he was in love with, didn’t kill him?”

Cedric shook his head. “No,” he said. “He just put a curse on him so that he was stuck in here _Beyond_. He’s very much alive, just the curse won’t let him stay permanently Upstairs. In theory he is dead, but physically he’s not, so the rules can be applied to him just as well. That motherfucker was smart, he knew how to trick _Beyond, _how to cage Draco in and not fuck up the whole balance. But as now that you’ve woken him up, now he can finally have human body and actually get somewhere. Literally.”

Cedric laughed a little but Harry seemed thoughtful. “What actually woke him up? The fact that I made him my fiancé?”

Fred and Cedric nodded at the same time. “The man who cursed him never thought anyone could ever love Draco, therefore he wouldn’t have a single chance to be human again,” Fred said. “I guess he didn't expect accidents,” he chuckled.

Harry hummed, scratching his neck. An old habit of his, only happening when he was thinking. “No one can use magic here, right? So how can he go Upstairs? How could he have been Upstairs in the first place, when I slid the ring over his finger?”

They looked at the other again. Cedric then began in a hushed voice, Harry had to lean closer to hear the words. “Only one person can use magic here and not even _he_ can make people go up there permanently. He can only send us Upstairs for a short period of time, and then bring us back.”

Fred then said, “I guess that’s where Draco is heading right now. I mean, that would be the next most logical step to take or a thing to do.”

Harry was on his feet immediately, fast as a soldier. “Who is this man and where is this place?”

Fred and Cedric grinned at the same time and Harry grew confused. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Fred said, still grinning. “I just think it would be better if we leave this as a surprise. We already told you so much, where’s the fun in that?”

Cedric started nodding. “Indeed,” he said. “Just go to the highest tower in the town and you’ll find him. Draco is probably there right now, too.”

“NEW ARRIVAL!” Someone screamed.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and put on their hats, grabbed a drink, began to shout. Someone dropped their drink, someone fainted, someone actually broke their bottle on another person’s head, they started fighting, people started betting–

“NEW ARRIVAL!”

“NEW ARRIVAL!”

The trumpets and the piano started to raise up the room. Cedric and Fred exchanged a look and said at the same time,

“There’s a new dead.”

Harry’s curiosity rose with a hint of fear when he saw the new person walk into the bar.

He was an old man holding a pipe, and for some reason he felt familiar to–

Harry’s eyes went round as he stood up from the table and walked to the old man, because–

“Mayhew,” Harry said, surprised. “You’re Muriel’s coachman, I’m so sorry.”

Mayhew looked more lively than he did when he was _alive_. “No, it’s fine. I’m finally feeling great.”

“Here’s a drink, welcome here,” the bartender said and gave Mayhew a drink. He accepted it and took a long sip out of it.

“Mayhew, I have to go back,” Harry said, Maybe looked at him. “They must have been worried sick, how’s everyone?”

“They know what’s going on in a way,” he said. “That Zabini boy saw how you disappeared.”

Harry was actually relieved that Blaise was kind everywhere for the first time in his life.

Then Mayhew began talking again, “And Ginevra, well,” he looked at Harry. “She’s getting married this evening.”

Harry thought he misheard it. “What?” he was taken back. “Married to who?”

Mayhew took a drag from his pipe and answered,

“To the same boy who saw you disappear.”

**––––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

“Listen up people!” A voice rang up at the street of Diagon Alley. The young boy was holding a lot of newspapers in his hand. There was another boy next to him with a couple of owls, he kept sending them with newspapers. Everyone stopped on the street. “Change of plans! Ginny Weasley is going to marry Blaise Zabini! The wedding is about to start in a an hour and everyone is invited! Go to The Grand Church!”

“Now that’s interesting” A woman said, sitting in a nearby restaurant. “What could have happened? I’m interested in the drama, I sure as hell be there. Well, I suppose it’s great to have a husband such as Blaise Zabini. All the money and titles – I’m getting excited just as I’m thinking about it, how lucky that lady must be. She could chose!” the woman blushed and looked around – she saw a a young woman and an old lady, who sat close to her at an another table. “You two are going? Everyone is invited it would be shame to miss it.”

The young woman smiled, sharp and bitter. “I would be stupid not to go. Who knows what’s going to happen, I need a little bit excitement in my life.”

A strange, young man and stared at the three women, talking over at their table. He stood up and walked towards The Grand Church.

_I’ll show you excitement._

He grinned.

**–––––––––––––––––**

_Beyond_

_At the highest tower, the highest room_

The first thing Harry saw were the books.

A lot of books, lying around everywhere, piles of books – so high and long piles of them that it reached the ceiling. Crows were flying around the room, all of them black like night. The candles were high up on the almost broken chandelier, giving a golden glow to the room, making the objects’ shadows as big as a malicious wolf in a dark forest. A staircase was there to escort people a bit higher where there was an old, big chair with a big table with a lot of potions on the surface.

“_Oh_, how intriguing.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned his to the left, hearing Malfoy’s voice.

_I didn’t even feel or see that he was in the room._

He stood closer than what Harry had expected. He was still in his elegant suit, white, as white as his hair, which was disheveled and it caught off Harry for a moment. Malfoy’s cold eyes were fixated on his, they might have been blue or grey, he didn’t know for sure.

He was taller than Harry. He was taller than him by almost _a_ _head_.

“Intriguing?” Harry echoed after his mind got back to work again.

Malfoy didn’t seem impressed. “I bet you’re having fun, enjoying what happened to me, how naive I was, how _he_ tricked me,” he said that with so much venom Harry _flinched_. “You’re here to make fun of me? Please do, Potter,” he drawled and walked close to him, with careful steps like a predator. “Let’s find out how mad I am, don’t even hold back.”

Harry didn’t like Malfoy, not in a bit. But he understood him, understood his motives, his morals, why he did what he did.

Because both of them were killers.

Malfoy tortured and killed for Voldemort.

Harry tortured and killed because of Voldemort.

Both of them did it to protect themselves and the ones they loved. There was nothing more to it. Nothing more, nothing less.

_We are two sides of the same coin._

If someone would use Harry like they used Malfoy, he wouldn’t even hesitate.

Harry opened his mouth and spoke clearly, in a low voice. “I hope he will suffer before you kill him,” he said. “I hope you will give him a painful death.”

Malfoy didn’t expect this, he almost took a step back. But instead of doing that, he got closer to Harry, his expression changed into intrigue, curiosity and _wonder_. Harry had to tilt his head in order to maintain eye contact.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said softly and then, “Why are you here then?” Malfoy asked in an interesting tone, one Harry couldn’t put anywhere.

Harry felt weird being looked down like this. He was always the most powerful in the room, no matter the height. But for some reason, looking up at Malfoy like this, Harry was the one who, for the first time in his life, felt like he was the weaker.

_It sent shivers up in spine._

“What? I can’t even help my fiancé?” Harry asked in the same tone. There was no way he would admit that there was a wedding he had to attend to.

_And it wasn’t even his anymore!_

Malfoy tilted his head. “I’m wearing this ring so that I can have my body,” he stated, showing the ring on his finger. “We’re married until then in a way yes, but in reality, we’re not married.”

Harry’s feelings had been gone since a year.

He still didn’t feel a lot of things. But he swore he could feel something stir up inside of his soul and he wanted to wake it up, wanted to pour gasoline on it so that it could blend inside of his lungs and then burn

him

away.

“What the fuck you kids doing?”

Harry whirled around because that voice–

He was looking at Alastor Moody.

He was just exactly the same – with his dark grey grizzled hair, his scars, and electrical blue eye.

“HA!” He pointed at Harry with wide eyes. “I saw you jump when I spoke–”

“Oh for Morgana’s sake,” Malfoy said in a tired voice from his left.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

“You’re right, I let my guard down.” Harry couldn't help but grin. “Constant vigilance indeed, you haven’t changed one bit. You know what? Never do.”

Moody squinted at him. “What is that look on your face? It’s weird, wipe it off,” then his electrical eye moved and stayed on Harry. “But... for fuck’s sake you’re not even dead.”

Harry clicked his tongue and said, “Oh yes, what a pity, sorry to disappoint.”

“Potter you can’t stay put, can you?” Then the eye moved to Malfoy – more specifically, to Malfoy’s hand. “_Ah,_ I see, now I get it,” he gave out a feral grin. “I suppose it’s time to leave off to kill a son of a bitch, right Draco?”

Harry looked over to Malfoy and saw him giving back the same grin back to Moody.

It was like looking at the devil.

And Harry for a moment saw someone who was just as much of a monster as he was.

And the fire inside of him,

_Oh_,

It

burned.

**–––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

_At The Grand Church_

“It’s insane how many of them attended,” Fleur whispered into Ginny’s ear.

Ginny and Blaise told everyone the plan, everyone from the family, Narcissa Malfoy and even Parkinson. Ginny was wearing her white dress and there were only a few moments before the ceremony finally began. “We will catch him, we will bring them back, we will find out what happened.”

Molly hugged Ginny from behind, Fleur followed it immediately, hugging her as well. Ginny smiled.

And the bells

started

to

ring.

It was time.

**––––––––––––––––**

_Beyond_

_At the highest tower, the highest room_

“So we’re waiting until he puts the potion together?” Harry asked, sitting on one of the armchairs.

Malfoy didn’t answer.

Harry looked at him. Malfoy was sitting on a piano stool before an old, well used piano. Harry was waiting for him to start playing, but Malfoy never did.

He jus stared at it.

The same way Harry did whenever he got home from his job, after he had killed dozens. There was an empty feeling and he was too afraid to make something, create something with the same hands he used to kill.

_We are two sides of the same coin._

Without noticing, Harry’s feet followed a pull – a pull to sit next to Malfoy. So he did.

And pressed down

a

key.

A high tone, light as a wind in the cloudy sky. He followed it with similar notes and then used his other hand as well, harmonizing the melody. It was the same haunting piece he played earlier.

He heard a lighter, higher tone then.

Which he didn’t do.

It was Malfoy.

It was quite the same as Harry’s, but more gentle, as if he was afraid to let it ring.

Harry moved to a deeper tone, echoing, resonating but still slow, encouraging Malfoy.

Malfoy hands moved elegantly, his long fingers brushed the keys as he made louder sounds yet still slow ones.

Harry continued with a quicker, beautiful pace. Draco followed it with low tones, pressing down the keys longer, harmonizing the two not so different, yet haunting sounds.

Then Draco started doing a little stair, up and down, up and down with the high tones, making it echo, slowly–

Harry picked up the pace and gave it spine, or wings like feather to a bird. Draco kept up with his melody and then they joined and–

It

became

a

waltz.

Harry’s heart was beating with excitement, with something new and fresh. The fire started to consume him and he could feel a smile working through his face.

A dance, this was. A beautiful light melody which didn’t feel lonely, it felt more, and infinite, and old, and–

_God I love this._

It was silence after it ended and Harry could feel Draco looking at him. He was afraid to look back.

But then, Harry was never scared.

He slowly moved his head and his nose brushed Draco’s, he was that close.

He stilled.

Draco pulled his face gently and ran a thumb along his cheek. Harry leaned into it, because this time he didn’t need to be the one who have to be wary, because the person close to him wasn’t weaker.

No.

Draco felt powerful.

“What is this?” Draco whispered and his lips brushed Harry’s. “You hate me.”

“Do I now?” His breath caught in his chest and his eyes fluttered, an embarrassed heat rose in his cheeks. “Does this look hate to you?”

“I don’t understand,” Draco said quietly, not moving.

Harry turned his head to Draco’s palm, closed his eyes, and nuzzled into it, his lips brushing the skin. “You make me feel, when I’ve forgotten how to,” he said softly, he moved the words through Draco’s palm. “You’re powerful.”

Draco didn’t move. “So are you.”

Harry half– opened one eye, to look at him. “I can’t calm down, I can’t let myself relax because there’s no one else who can protect me or others around me. You are powerful, Draco,” Harry turned back, closing his eyes pressed a kiss on his palm. “The only one who would–”

“Protect you?” Draco asked doubt creeped in his voice. “You really think I would protect you?”

Harry looked back at him with half lidded eyes and asked, quietly. “Would you?”

Draco was staring. He was staring for a long time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Harry felt something move

in

his

heart.

Someone smashed a book on a table. “CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

They moved away from each other, but Draco’s hand lingered on Harry’s cheek for a bit longer. “Oh for Morgana’s sake,” Malfoy said in a tired voice from his left and then let go of Harry, whose heart was still beating crazy.

“I heard you Draco, I’m not that deaf yet,” Moody looked unimpressed. “Now, I advise you to follow the magic of the person who cursed you, they can be identified. And because this is a rather interesting curse, there’s a trigger to it. It’s rather surprising how Potter only found you now,” he looked at Harry. “Was there a wedding close to the area? Why did you even have a wedding ring?”

“Because I would have had a wedding with Ginny,” Draco tensed up and Harry felt a smirk on his face. “But I never loved her and she never loved me, not like that anyway. We had our own personal reasons for this, but never love. For some reason though, she’s gonna marry to Blaise this evening. Mayhew told me who recently passed away, he was Muriel’s coachman, who is Ron’s Aunt.”

Draco looked gobsmacked. “Blaise?” he asked, as if he heard it wrong. “Zabini? Blaise?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t get it either.”

Moody just hummed. “Well, anyway, good luck for both of you,” he raised the potion. Draco and Harry walked over to him. Before Moody could pour it over them, though–

The door burst wide open.

The instruments were loud and almost all of the dead people were there, waving in excitement. The singer was up front with Fred and Cedric. “You didn’t think we wouldn’t help our favorite boy here, right Draco?” The singer asked with a big grin.

Draco

grinned

back

Harry’s heart skipped a beat.

**––––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

_At The Grand Church_

“We are gathered here to celebrate the very special love between the bride and the groom, by joining them in marriage...” Aberforth began while looking around the church.

Ginny was looking around as well, Blaise was holding her hand and let his magic circle around the room.

_Come out, come out, wherever you are._

** _––––––––––––––––––_ **

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

Draco used his magic to show a trail where the person who cursed him was. It showed a blue smoke in the night.

It

led

to

The

Grand

Church

“Funny,” Draco said in a cold voice and then started walking towards the building. Harry followed him and the rest of the people started singing and playing their instruments as they followed their lead.

“_A wedding, a wedding,_” they started singing together. “_We’re going to have a wedding, a wedding!_”

People in the street looked at them weirdly, rubbing their eyes, pinching themselves as if they thought it wasn't real what they were seeing.

The chorus began again, “_Huzzah! Huzzah! We’re going to have a wedding. Hurray! A wedding! Hurray! One thing you can surely say is we will defend our one and only groom. Huzzah! Hurray! Huzzah! Hurray! The groom is getting vengeance today!_”

Harry caught up to Draco. “And how does it feel to be human again?”

Draco smiled a little, still walking up the hill. “Refreshing,” he gave Harry a side glance. “And how does it feel to not be married?”

“_We’re going to have a party like no one has ever seen. The Living in the land above will not know where they’ve been. The Land above, the Land above – the party of, the party of – The groom!_”

Harry’s heart skipped again.

_What is going on with him?_

“What do you mean?” He said. “We’re married.”

Draco slightly shook his head with a little smile. “Just don’t get used to it.”

“_Here comes the groom, on his glorious day of days. Up to the Land of Living to celebrate!_”

“Really?” Harry said in a cheeky tone. “I was just getting comfortable.”

Draco laughed and then they were in front of the two winged door.

“_A wedding, a wedding,_” the crowd sang together. “_We’re going to have a wedding, a wedding!_”

And Draco

kicked

in

the

door.

**–––––––––––––––––**

_The Land of the Living, Upstairs_

_At The Grand Church_

“If anyone here is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The door

burst

open.

Ginny and Blaise whirled around the same time as Aberforth said, “What the– _You shall not enter here!_” He said with raised hands, gesturing with the ancient binding book. “_You’re not alive, back–_”

“Keep it down we’re in a church,” Fred shouted from the back.

“FRED?!” George stood up from one of the benches, looking at the dead people as they were walking into the saint building.

“GEORGE?!”

“HARRY?!” Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Molly screamed at the same time.

“DRACO?!” Blaise, Pansy and Narcissa yelled.

“MOM?!” Draco looked at Narcissa.

“CEDRIC?” Fleur and Bill shouted.

“HELLO GUYS!” Cedric waved at them with a big smile.

“MOM, IS THAT GRANDPA?”

“PEDRO!”

“MAYHEW?!”

“GERTRUD, MY WOMAN!”

“ALFRED YOU DIED FOURTEEN YEARS AGO!”

“FRANKLY, MY DEAR, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN!”

A lot of them hugged and cried – Fred and George. Dead people were talking to their living loved ones, cracking jokes and sitting next to them on the benches.

Aberforth then suddenly said, “I found him,” he told Blaise and Ginny. “He’s in the–”

“– back,” Draco finished and looked towards the person who cursed him. “At least try to be a man and show yourself.”

“How touching,” a low voice began and stepped out to the moon light. A lot of people gasped. “I always thought running was the only option for you, Draco.”

Blaise

couldn’t

move.

“Theodore?” He was numb.

**–––––––––––––––––––**

Draco wanted to break Theodore’s spine, he wanted to him bleed out like a nothing he was.

“It’s a pity you’ve got lucky,” he said and then stared at Harry. Draco moved so that he could cover him, hide him.

Theodore turned surprised, his wand was in his hand. “Oh my Draco,” he said with a voice full of emotion and Draco narrowed his eyes. “You starve for love, it’s easy to make you fall,” his eyes lingered on Harry. “Easier than I thought.”

Something turned ice

inside of

his

ribcage.

“It’s your time now,” Draco promised. “And no curse can be broken, if you’re dead.”

Theodore grinned as he circled around Draco. “The law is still the law, my darling. If you kill me, you’re on your free way to Azkaban, with hundreds of witnesses,” he pointed around.

Draco grabbed his chin and almost broke his neck. He showed his teeth, as if he wanted to rip out Theodore Nott’s throat. “How could I ever thought I loved you?” he said with disgust. “When you’re this empty, this... nothing?”

Theodore leaned closer. “When have you ever been this emotional?” he asked through his teeth. “You’re saying this as if you’re not the same, as if you haven’t done the same things I did. You’re saying this as if you’re not empty.”

Draco

felt

something

break

in

his

heart.

For a moment he was lost, lost in his own mind and thoughts with terror of his memories.

**–––––––––––––––**

Harry saw Nottmove. He let out his powerful magic, and he broke his bones

without even

moving.

Nott was screaming in pain and Draco came back from wherever he had been. Draco’s magic touched Harry’s and circled around it, gently and intelligent and as

powerful

as

his.

Draco’s magic learned what Harry was doing, stopped it and then Draco did it himself. He was breaking Nott’s bone over and over again, making him bleed – and then putting everything back and doing it again.

But he did not kill him.

_He doesn’t want to live in fear of getting caught._

_He doesn’t want to be stuck in Azkaban._

_He wants to live and be free._

“Let’s get it boys, don’t worry my boy, we will make you proud,” the singer began and then every single dead person stood up and began to move towards Nott. Someone started to pull the man towards another room in the church. Every dead followed it and then Cedric said, after everyone was inside, before closing the door, looking at Draco with a bright smile, “New arrival.”

And everything quieted down.

**–––––––––––––––––––––**

Draco could feel as the curse vanished from him, as his heart began to beat again, as his lungs came alive with air and it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

A hard body crashed into him and Draco realized Blaise was hugging him. Draco’s sight became blurry as he hugged him. Then he felt another one body and saw–

_Pansy._

He laughed a little, full of life, it echoed in the church.

They both let him go and Draco saw his mom walking close. Pansy and Blaise stepped back from the hug to give them space.

Narcissa came close and touched Draco’s face with gently, loving hands. She was crying and said, smiling a little, “Welcome home.”

Draco smiled back, feeling a single tear escape from his eye.

“It’s good to be back.”

**–––––––––––––––––**

_Several years later_

“Just don’t get used to it, huh?” Harry asked after looking at their matching rings, kissing Draco.

Draco leaned down to deepen the kiss, “What can I say?” his hand came to rest on the small of his back, he lowered his head. Harry found himself holding his breath. Draco moved his mouth towards his ear to whisper,

“You make me feel, when I’ve forgotten how to.”

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> I Hope you guys enjoyed it! :3333 scream at me in the comments!
> 
> PS: The whole 'Corpse Bride' OST/Soundtrack is advised to be listened. Because the songs are amazing and masterpieces :DDD


End file.
